Free Million Dollar Mistake by Meg Lacey Page A

her accusation penetrated. “Me? What about you?”
    “Me?”
    “Yes, you. What are you doing in my bed?”
    “Your bed? It’s my bed.”
    “Not when you turned up your nose at it last night, it’s not. Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
    “This is my room and this is my bed regardless of who I have in it.” Nicholas’s jaw hardened at that thought, but before he could comment, Raven rushed on. “But that’s not the point. You were—” She stopped as if someone had pressed a button.
    “Were what?”
    “Trying to take advantage of this situation.”
    “Oh, please. Who was draped all over me like a bed of moss over a tree when I woke up, hmmm?”
    “I was not.”
    “Were too. You were sprawled across me so I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get up.”
    “You got up,” she said darkly. “Or at least part of you did.”
    Nicholas retreated into dignity when he wanted to laugh like a loon. But the expression on Raven’s face warned him that she might take an axe to him if he so much as cracked a smile. “That was an involuntary masculine response. It had nothing to do with you.”
    Now she looked affronted. “It did too.”
    “Did not.” Nicholas was starting to enjoy himself. At least he would be if his whole damn body didn’t ache so much from sexual frustration. “It would have happened with any female body that happened to be in the same position.”
    “That—that is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me in my entire life.”
    “Surely not.”
    “Yes.”
    “I know for a fact I’ve said worse things.”
    “You’ve never implied I’m not desirable before.” Then she bit her lip, looking down at the bedcover, adding in a conscientious tone, “At least not since I was a kid. But when I was a kid I was rather…”
    Ah hell, there’s that vulnerability again, Nick thought, his gut twisting in response. “Unique. You were unique.”
    Her surprised gaze flew up to meet his. “What did you say?”
    Nicholas levered himself onto his elbow and smoothed her hair behind her ears. “You had the biggest eyes. You could fall into them and not escape.”
    “You noticed my eyes?”
    “I couldn’t help it. I looked for them because they were generally hidden under that mass of hair falling in your face, sort of like an Old English sheepdog. I was surprised you could see anything.”
    Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I reminded you of a dog?”
    He grinned. “Not exactly. You’re not what I’d call the most faithful companion.”
    “That does it,” she spluttered, thumping him on the arm. “Get out of my room.”
    Laughing, he fended off her attack. “Calm down.”
    “You insult me and then tell me to calm down. Not likely.”
    He grabbed her arms and flipped her over him and onto her back. “Damn, you always were a wildcat when you got your temper up.”
    “I was not,” she said, managing to give him an elbow in the ribs.
    “Were too,” he said, cupping his palms over her shoulders so he could hold her down. “Either you were a wildcat or you skulked around like a little ghost watching everybody from the shadows.”
    She worked her leg out from under him and tried to buck him off of her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    He leaned his body weight back on her to keep her still. “I’ve known you since you were ten years old, sweetheart. I think I have a clue.”
    “You know nothing about me.”
    “Why don’t you teach me?”
    “Maybe I don’t want to,” she said, her mouth pouting like a child denied ice cream.
    “Okay, then, I know that you twist men around your finger until they can’t think straight.”
    Raven stared up at him. “Everyone needs a hobby.”
    “I think you’d better find a new one.”
    Her bottom lip jutted defiantly. “Why should I?”
    “Because your little hobby has landed you in the middle of a very sticky situation. It’s a good thing I came along.”
    “Your coming along was helpful, but not necessary. What are you doing